


Irrevocable Exigency

by stacy_l



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Angst, Drama, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:44:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stacy_l/pseuds/stacy_l
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Investigating a series of bizarre deaths could lead to a tragic fate for one or both of the Winchester brothers. Takes place during Season 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Downingtown is a real location in Pennsylvania. It is located in Chester County. The tales of the Downingtown tunnels and mansion, as well as the rumors of a possible gate or portal to the underworld existing there is part of the local tales of the area. The Jane Doe murder case referred to in the story is a real murder case that occurred back in July 1995. The case itself remains unsolved. The murder case mentioned in Las Vegas that almost paralleled the Downingtown Jane Doe case occurred around the same time and also remains unsolved. The rest of the story is completely fictitious created from my own imagination and elaborating on a few local tales to carry the story along. 
> 
> This story serves as a response to table fic prompt # 36: Other Haunted Location from the Paranormal25 LiveJournal challenge community.
> 
> ** This story takes place during Season 4 of the series **
> 
> ** This story was originally started in November 2008 and is still a Work in Progress **

[](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4652763)

**PART 1**

_He had been running half the night unsure of where he was, uncertain if he could even escape. He was being hunted and those who were after him wouldn’t stop until he was either dead or captured. He had lost Sam having been separated from him hours ago. A stupid plan, Sam’s stupid plan, to distract their pursuers claiming the one they really wanted was **him**. He had tried to stop him but his brother was stubborn and wouldn’t listen to reason. Sam’s only concern was to save him and lure those after him as far away from his location as possible. What Sam had failed to take into consideration was that they most likely had plans for him too. _

_They were persistent driving him and Sam deeper into unfamiliar territory keeping up a steady pursuit for well over four hours now. The outcome was looking very grim for him and his brother. They were at a great disadvantage. They didn’t know the area well, had never actually been to the area until several days ago and now they were being run down by people who knew the area like the back of their hands. They knew every in and out of the woods, knew where to go, what lie in wait, what to avoid and where to hide. He and Sam were at a huge disadvantage in that respect, the disadvantage a rather big one hanging over their heads. Neither of them knew where the hell they even were let alone how to get out._

_He knew who was out there, he knew **what** was out there and if either of them were captured the outcome would be anything but good. They had to escape. They had to get as far away as was humanly possible, but that was looking more and more like a nearly impossible goal to achieve. _

_He could hear voices now, trampling behind him, in front of him, the woods around him quickly filling with the loud crack and snap of twigs being broken, sticks being trampled beneath determined feet, branches twisting at odd angles as his pursuers pushed harder into the woods certain that they were closing in on at least one of their prey. The group was smaller now having split apart when Sam separated from him. There weren’t as many and if it came down to it he’d go down fighting, but he wasn’t sure how much one could do when they had an injured arm and were on the verge of passing out from excessive blood loss. His arm was useless in a possible fight and the strength he had so far expended to keep running had all but drained his reserves leaving him with little energy to continue. The only thing driving him onward was the fact that Sam was also out there somewhere, likewise being hunted down._

_He tensed nearly freezing as he heard the sound of snarling, barking dogs off in the distance triggering an accompanying memory that nearly drove him to his knees. Through sheer force of will he pushed the memory, the image out of his mind. He couldn’t afford to become distracted, especially by a memory that could potentially cripple him enough for those after him to gain more ground on him. As the barking and snarling continued he found himself swallowing hard forcing his legs to move faster, driving himself deeper into the woods, determined to place as much distance between he and that ravenous pack as was possible. The only relief he could find in the gruesome situation was their persistence… They were tenacious in their pursuit but still hunting for **both** of them he was certain. _

_He ran onward forcing his legs to keep moving, his body to continue on a path forward wincing as yet another branch slapped him across the face tearing open his cheek and making it sting. He forced the pain to the back of his mind knowing they were gaining on him. They were so very near he was certain his luck was about to run out, but just as quickly as he had heard them they veered off in the opposite direction having taken up pursuit of another, that other was most likely Sam. Someone must have spotted him and the others took up the pursuit. He mentally cursed their luck hoping against all hope that Sam would outrun them, outfox them and manage to elude capture yet again._

_As the shouts echoed back to him from a distance he found himself caught in indecision: should he follow them to see if they had found Sam, and if they had what could he do to help his brother? What if they were now closing in on him and there was nothing he could do? He faltered nearly stumbling as a wave of panic entered in. He couldn’t let them get Sam, but he also couldn’t allow himself to be captured because if they did find Sam and he too were captured then there was no one left to free his brother. As that reality sunk in he found his desire to escape fueled further. He needed to keep running, needed to get away, for if Sam were captured then he was his brother’s only hope at freedom._

_He ran harder, faster, pushing himself until he was certain the hunting party was far enough behind him that he could stop and take a momentary break. He needed to catch his breath and regain his focus so halting he stopped by a tree feeling his legs threatening to buckle on him as he did. Tensing he prepared himself for the impact of hitting the ground only to realize the direction he had fallen was back not down. He had fallen against a tree, but even though he found himself leaning back against a tree his legs still quivered violently under the impact threatening to spill him the rest of the way to the ground where he feared once he landed he’d not be able to get back up from. As the quivering began to subside he allowed himself to relax slightly assured that he wouldn’t be collapsing to the ground just yet._

_He remained propped against the tree gazing above him panting and gasping drawing in shaky breaths as he tried to regain a normal semblance of breathing. He had to catch his breath, for they were still out there, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they found him again. He needed to get moving. Staying in one place too long was very dangerous it made him an easier target to locate. He **had** to move. _

_He attempted to push off from the tree determined to get back on the run but quickly fell backwards wincing aloud as his back impacted the tree he had been leaning against and triggered pain in his injured shoulder. He needed to move, but he apparently still needed to take a moment to rest too. Shit!_

_Shaking his head he told himself he would take another moment, just one more moment then he’d move on, so pressing back against the tree he momentarily settled growing anxious as he felt his reserves of strength fading fast. He had to move **now** , for if he didn’t… _

_He bit into his lip biting back a groan as pain arced through his injured shoulder reminding him again of the injury he had spent countless hours trying to ignore. Wanting to soothe the pain he carefully drew his left arm across his chest, turning to assess the arm noticing the obvious dark stain covering the sleeve of his jacket. His arm had bled a lot, but it looked now as if the bleeding had since stopped, the blood drying and hardening on his coat._

_He had been wounded early in the night but had been far too close to those tracking him to remain. He hadn’t had time to do more than look at the injury before taking to running again. Now as he focused on it he noticed the pain was more pronounced as another twinge traveled through his arm he gritted his teeth silencing yet another groan of pain that wanted to come out aware that the effort alone made more sweat break out across his face. The wound needed tended to and soon or it wouldn’t be just those chasing him that could inevitably kill him._

_As more pain sliced through the wound he forced his head back against the tree, pushing hard into it as he tried to keep from releasing yet another cry of pain. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut he waited it out. Once it subsided and receded enough that he could function again he forced his mind to focus on the present, on the here and now turning his attention onto his environment. He was being hunted. There was no more time to waste, so drawing in several slow calming breaths and forcing the pain to the back of his mind he centered his senses, honing them, as he began to listen closely._

_He could hear the soft subtle rustle of trees being slowly stirred and rocked by a gentle wind, the crickets singing merging with the sound of frogs chirping and overhead an owl hooted. Swallowing hard he found himself hoping that owl wasn’t a death omen._

_Silencing his mind again he forced his attention to expand listening closer to what was around him, paying more attention to what was happening. He could feel the roughened bark of the tree he was leaning against, the weakness in his legs, the exhaustion filling his body as he remained idle much longer than he should, but he had to be sure, to be certain that he was **alone** , that no one had picked up his trail yet again. _

_Again he silenced his thoughts and centered on the noises around him. He heard nothing out of the ordinary, no alien noises that seemed to be disproportionate to the woods around him, no awkward sounds that didn’t quite fit, nothing. Off to his left he picked up the sound of a stream rumbling and in the distance the faintest sound of dogs barking. They were near, but not so near that they would easily pick up his trail. He was safe for the moment, for the moment he was safe, but what about Sam? Had they found him or were they still hunting for him? Had those pursuing he and his brother decided to take a break or had they just found Sam?_


	2. Chapter 2

**PART 2**

_One Week Earlier…_

“Downingtown, we need to go to Downingtown, Dean.” 

Glancing at his brother momentarily from the driver’s seat of the Impala Dean found himself asking, “What’s in Downingtown, Sam?” 

“A series of bizarre deaths…” 

“Bizarre deaths…?” 

“Yeah, teenagers mostly…” 

“Teenagers?” 

“Yep.” 

Returning his focus to the road ahead he frowned as his eyes took in the large yellow sign along the side of it that announced that trucks and slower moving vehicles must move to the right hand lane before entering the tunnel ahead. As he approached the tunnel he glanced above it catching a glimpse of a sign that simply stated: “Tuscarora Mountains” before he found himself driving into a dark, but lighted concrete tunnel with a mountain sitting on top of it. He shook his head as he glanced in the rear view and up ahead at the two narrow lanes available for travel. As he continued through the tunnel he felt uneasy, the corridor was too narrow if someone were to lose control of their vehicle… 

Silencing his thoughts he was relieved to see the exit up ahead, uncertain as to why one simple tunnel could make him feel so uneasy in the first place and caught off guard as Sam said, “Three…” 

“What, Sam? What?” 

“There’s three…of those tunnels, Dean, then we’ll be out of the mountains.” 

And how was it that Sam could so easily pick up on his unease? 

As he drove onward he began to let his mind wander again, this time it seemed to want to focus on how he was presently feeling. The tunnel shouldn’t have bothered him…at all. He hadn’t been nervous or anxious about small spaces ever before…that is until _after_ his return. He couldn’t explain it, but something about them just…freaked him out. Shaking his head he replied to Sam’s comment with a simple, “Ah.” 

As he continued on he could just make out the next group of yellow signs up ahead before coming to the next tunnel and opting this time to distract himself as he urged, “So tell me about Downingtown, Sam.” 

“It’s a quiet town in Chester County with quite the history.” 

“Quite the history…?” 

“Yeah it has more than it’s fair share of strange tales, Dean.” 

“Strange tales? About…?” 

“Bizarre murders, unexplained deaths…you name it.” 

“Sounds like a perfect place to visit…” 

“Sure, if you like a healthy dose of violence on the side…” 

Nodding he requested, “So anything else we should know about Downingtown?” 

“Despite the area’s vast array of problems…? There’s a local tale that mentions a gate to hell and…” 

Upon seeing Dean flinching Sam trailed off cursing himself for being so insensitive. He should have thought of what he wanted to say before he did. He knew how Dean felt about hell. He never wanted to speak of it again, in fact went to great lengths to avoid any attempts Sam had ever made to get him to talk about it. He just didn’t want to remember, and Sam had learned to respect that. Still on occasion he would speak without thought mentioning the place he was certain made up some of Dean’s nightmares. Now he pinned his brother with a concerned worried look holding his breath as he awaited any further reactions from him. 

Dean flinched then shuddered in response to hearing the word suddenly feeling queasy and aggravated that just a simple mention of that place could get his heart pounding furiously in his chest. Knowing full well his fear and terror probably reflected on his face he chose to keep staring straight ahead for once grateful that Sam was so caught up in the book he was reading from to have noticed. Swallowing hard and forcing his voice to become steadier, calmer he chose sarcasm, “Ah a gate to hell…sounds like our kind of town, Sammy.” 

Sam wasn’t fooled by the effort it took Dean to make a joke out of the situation. He had become upset upon the simple utterance of the word and had probably believed his younger brother hadn’t noticed the ashy pallor of his face or the terror that had momentarily gripped him. Dean was probably certain he hadn’t seen anything, and he intended to keep it that way. If it eased his brother’s mind then he’d go with it. 

Dean drew in a steadying breath aware that sweat had broken out across his brow as well. Shaking his head, he silenced his fears and the thousands of whispers now echoing through his mind before clearing his throat and managing, “So tell me about this…gate.” 

Sam watched his older brother, assessing him, looking for any further tension to surface in his body or across his face. When he saw none he settled for replying with, “There’s not much to tell, really. Apparently these ‘gates’ are believed to have been around for some time. When the history of the place and the stories of ghosts began to circulate the townspeople opted to tear them down so that the exact location of them could never be found again.” 

“That was smart… So these gates, do they lead anywhere…else?” 

“They used to lead to an old abandoned mansion on the edge of town.” 

“A mansion…?” 

“Yes.” 

“And this mansion does it…?” 

“It has a history too, a rather violent one.” 

“Which is?” 

“It was the site of some ghastly murders. Apparently the man who lived there killed his family before shooting himself. The house has been sitting empty and abandoned for some time. It was left just as it was the day of the murders. The reports say that the bodies were all buried on the mansion grounds, but no one knows where for sure. Since then people have journeyed into the woods searching for the house and this mysterious…portal.” 

“Thrill seekers?” 

“Yes.” 

“And these kids who keep turning up dead are they…?” 

“Kids out for a cheap thrill…” 

Dean glanced at his brother briefly before turning his eyes to the road again simply stating, “Man doesn’t anyone know that when a house is believed to be haunted they need to stay away from it, and not try to break into it?” 

“They don’t know what’s out there, Dean.” 

“Yeah… So, these kids that are turning up dead are they appearing at the mansion?” 

“No not the mansion…” 

“Then where Sam…?” 

“Further down the road near some bizarre tunnels…” 

“Tunnels, Sam?” 

“Tunnels, Dean.” 

“More damned tunnels… Doesn’t this state have anything other than tunnels?” 

“Well there are covered bridges and…” 

“Shut up, Sam.” 

“Hey you asked. I only answered.” 

“Yeah… So tell me about these tunnels.” 

“They’re wrapped up in another local legend.” 

“Two legends taking place in the same general area? That’s a little weird don’t you think?” 

“Yeah… I’m guessing hot bed for the paranormal, what about you?” 

“Something like that, yeah. So these tunnels…” 

“They’re often referred to as the twin tunnels of Valley Creek or the twin tunnels of Downingtown. The site has seen more than its fair share of visitors and freak accidents through the years. The tunnels also have a rather dark reputation for being the location of a gruesome unsolved murder as well.” 

“Haunted tunnels and gruesome murders? Great, just great…”

* * * *

 **Downingtown, Pennsylvania**

As they entered the quiet town of Downingtown Dean pulled into the parking lot of one of the first motels he saw. Once he had parked the Impala and shut it off he turned to look at his brother. Sam was asleep in the passenger seat having drifted off a little over an hour ago. He hated to wake him seeing his brother hadn’t slept much the last few nights, so he decided to leave him rest while he checked them into the motel. Locking the door before quietly closing it he glanced again at his slumbering brother before turning to walk into the lobby of the motel. Once inside he approached the desk and was greeted by a young woman with a pleasant smile upon her face. He returned the smile catching a hint of an accent when she questioned, “May I help you?” 

“Yes. I’d like to get a room.” 

“Double or single?” 

“Double, please.” 

“One double coming right up,” she turned back to her computer typing in the information before turning back to request his credit card. He was already ahead of her handing it quickly off to her wanting nothing more than to get he and Sam into a bed where they both could find some much needed rest. He continued to watch the young woman as she typed in his credit card information before turning to hand him the key to room 117. She then said, “Room’s out the door and to your right as you exit the lobby.” 

He smiled politely then thanked her as she returned his credit card. He then exited the motel noticing how quiet and dark the area was. He glanced around seeing very few cars in the parking lot and wondering if there was always so little business. Shrugging his shoulders he headed back towards the Impala not really focusing on his surroundings, jumping when an all too familiar voice said, “You need to leave here, Dean.” 

Glancing up he saw Castiel before him, surprised to see the angel again so soon and even more surprised at the statement he had just made. Shaking his head he settled on responding with a simple, “What do you want?” that had Castiel pinning him with that intense gaze of his as he repeated, “This place is not safe. You need to go.” 

Shaking his head, a little disgruntled by the chastising tone Castiel used, he found himself snapping back, “What I need to do is stop more kids from dying.” 

“Perhaps, but there is more going on here than a bizarre string of deaths, Dean.” 

“Such as…? Ah, wait don’t tell me another seal’s about to be broken and…” 

“No. Not yet.” 

“But…? I sense a ‘but’ in there somewhere…” 

“You have been marked, Dean. They want you back.” 

He visibly shuddered in response to that statement pinning Castiel with a steady, intense gaze of his own as he found himself asking, “And can they do that…you know, take me back?” 

“No, but they can try and they will… You are a threat now Dean, a very imminent one. They fear you, but they also know you must be stopped, in order for Lilith to continue breaking the seals you must be stopped.” 

“I don’t understand, why, I mean…” 

“They will try to stop you, Dean.” 

“But…” 

“The longer you stay in Downingtown the more danger you will be in. You must leave this place,” seeing the suppressed anger and frustration in Dean’s eyes he nodded his head in understanding adding, “If you must stay then do what you must quickly then leave.” 

Dean lowered his gaze drawing in a calming breath, a bit surprised that Castiel understood why he couldn’t just leave. As he lifted his head to speak again it was only to discover that Castiel was gone. Shaking his head he glanced stupidly around him knowing that Castiel was no where. The angel had left. 

He wondered about the warning fear rearing again and threatening to consume him at what it would mean for him if he was taken back. He couldn’t go back there, he just couldn’t and if they succeeded… 

_“They will not.”_

“How can you be so sure?” 

_“Because angels are watching over you…”_

“Well that’s comforting.” 

_“It is to most…”_

Shaking his head again he was only slightly surprised to realize that the reassurance did make him feel more relieved and calm. Thankful for the unexpected support from Castiel he began to approach the Impala. Lowering his head he gazed in the driver’s side window and smiled upon seeing Sam still fast asleep in the passenger seat. He hadn’t been awake to see the exchange. Smiling broader he unlocked the door and reached in gently shaking his brother who slowly awoke muttering, “Dean, what…?” 

“We’re at the motel, Sammy, time for bed…” 

Sam nodded before stretching asking, “How long was I asleep?” 

“About two hours… Come on let’s get you into a real bed, what do you say?” 

“Sounds great, Dean sounds great…” 

Together they made their way to their room quickly settling into their beds. Sam fell asleep almost immediately while Dean stared up at the dark ceiling above, staring into blackness, Castiel’s warning still echoing in his mind: 

_“They want you back.”_

He tried to relax closing his eyes as he shifted upon the mattress but found his mind wouldn’t remain idle. It kept replaying the discussion he had had with Castiel and all those he had had prior to tonight’s as well as his return from the grave. As he recalled clawing his way out a quick flash of himself suspended in mid-air spread eagle filled his mind and sent him jolting back to full alertness sitting completely upright in bed confused, uncertain and scared. As he glanced around the room he didn’t recognize where he was and tried to think back to recall where. 

As he focused on the clock beside the bed he knew instantly that he was in a motel and apparently hadn’t been asleep for very long before the disturbing images had drawn him to full alertness again. As he slowly scanned the dark interior of the room he became aware that he couldn’t sleep now. He was too afraid to sleep so he hesitantly lowered back into the bed and directed his gaze again to the ceiling above. As the seconds stretched into minutes he found himself turning to check on Sam relieved to see him in the bed and fast asleep. At least one of them was getting much needed rest tonight. For him, sleep had been quite elusive ever since his return. He had managed a few nights of rest here and there but his mind never seemed able to calm enough to lull him to sleep. As a result he ended up spending many countless nights tossing and turning, hoping sleep would find him and growing frustrated when it didn’t. Some nights he slept soundly, peacefully and other nights he would constantly awake nearly every hour on edge nervous, afraid to stay asleep too long for fear that the nightmares, the memories would return. He was tired but even that sometimes wasn’t enough to push him into falling headlong into deep needful rest. Sometimes he just had to accept the fact that his mind would never calm fully enough for him _to_ find rest.


	3. Chapter 3

**PART 3**

_Early the Following Morning…_

Dean emerged from the bathroom freshly showered and dressed his mind on food. He glanced up to see Sam was reading waiting patiently to use the shower himself. Sam looked at him then asking, “How’d you sleep, Dean?” 

He broke eye contact momentarily before regarding his brother answering, “Good, good.” 

Sam watched his brother noticing almost immediately that Dean was very tired. He looked downright exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in over a week. If he were to hazard a guess he’d say it had been longer than that. He knew what answer he’d get when he inquired about sleep but asked the question anyway hoping that Dean might confide in him about what disturbed his rest. He had a sneaking suspicion that a lot of those sleep disturbances revolved around what he had experienced during the four months he was gone. Dean would talk when he was ready…or so he hoped. The moment Dean replied to his initial question he could tell that it was a lie, which meant that Dean hadn’t rested at all the night before. Instead of making a huge issue out of it Sam opted for distraction, “I’ve been doing some more research on Downingtown…” 

“And…?” 

“There have been accidental deaths in the area dating back over fifty years.” 

“Which means?” 

“It means that there’s something more going on here.” 

Dean froze again remembering Castiel’s warning. They wanted him, and they wouldn’t stop until they had him. 

Sam noticing his brother’s sudden silence and pallid complexion stood up approaching him before asking, “Dean? Dean, are you okay?” 

Placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder he could feel the muscles tense beneath him upon the contact and said Dean’s name again relieved when his brother finally focused on him answering, “Yeah, Sam, I’m fine.” 

Nodding Sam softened his voice asking, “What’s going on with you, Dean?” 

“Nothing, nothing, Sam, there’s nothing going on with me.” 

Not believing him he stated, “You’ve been on edge ever since I mentioned Downingtown. Tell me why. What’s going on, Dean?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine, Sam, really. I’m going to get something to eat, you want anything?” 

“Dean…” 

He casually drew away before walking to the door pausing long enough to repeat, “Do you want anything?” 

_Yes, an answer to my question_ , but he knew that Dean wouldn’t give it so shaking his head in frustration he answered, “No, No I’m just…I’m going to take a shower. You go. I’ll be here when you get back.” 

Dean nodded and left. As the door closed abruptly Sam found himself staring at it for several moments before moving to the bathroom to shower. Something was wrong with Dean, and he had every intention of finding out just what it might be. 

Once done showering Sam dressed then exited the bathroom no sooner settling in a chair when a knock resounded on the door. Rising he approached expecting to see housekeeping on the other side but instead his eyes fell to, “Ruby. What are you doing here?” 

“Well hello to you too, Sam.” 

Brisk as usual… Ignoring the unexpected iciness in her tone he demanded, “What do you want?” 

“I want to help, Sam.” 

Shaking his head offering her a curt smile in response he answered with, “We’ve already been through this. I’m done with it. It’s over, Ruby. I promised Dean…” 

She cut him off haughtily questioning, “Speaking of Dean has he had any visitors lately?” 

Knowing full well what ‘visitors’ she was referring to he still chose to ask, “Visitors?” 

She humored him, “Why his guardian angel, of course.” 

The word ‘angel’ was lined subtly with an edge of fear that Sam couldn’t help but notice. She was afraid of angels, had told him so herself, but had never really said why, so shrugging his shoulders he answered, “Not that I’m aware of, no, why do you ask? What do you want, Ruby?” 

Irritation lined her voice as she quickly responded, “To _help_ Sam.” 

“And I’ve already said I’m done…” 

She held up a hand to stop his statement mid-delivery before issuing her warning, “You need to leave here, Sam. You need to grab your brother and get the hell out of Downingtown.” 

“And why would I want to do that?” 

“Because they’re here, Sam, and they know that _you’re_ here too.” 

“By ‘they’ I take it you mean demons?” 

“Yes.” 

“So what do they want?” 

She turned away before answering with, “Well it’s certainly not you.” 

Surprised Sam found himself asking, “Well if they’re not here for us then why come?” 

Turning back to gaze intently at him she hesitated for only a moment before answering, “Because they’re after a bigger prize, Sam, one bigger than you…” 

“Which is?” 

“Dean.” 

Sam became instantly worried questioning, “ _Dean?_ Why would they want Dean?” 

“To stop him, Sam…” 

“To stop him…? But I thought they were afraid of him, afraid of…” 

“Oh they are Sam, they are, but they also know he’s an imminent threat and what better way to sabotage the angels’ plans than to destroy the human messenger they selected to carry out their will?” 

“What? But Dean…” 

“Dean’s _human_ , Sam, just like you, just like me…” 

“You’re not human.” 

“No but I can be destroyed just as easily as he can so my advice? Get him out of Downingtown as soon as you can or else you’ll both end up dead.” 

The door opened then and Dean entered. The moment he spotted and recognized Ruby he demanded, “What the hell are you doing here?” 

Without looking at Dean she simply replied, “Nothing, I was just leaving.” 

Turning she glanced briefly at him before slipping by him as quickly as she was able tensing when he snapped, “Don’t come back.” 

She would have said something in response if his presence alone didn’t scare her just a little. He had been saved by angels, pulled out of the fiery pit by some very powerful beings. Who’s to say they didn’t gift Dean Winchester with some sort of powers of his own? As that final thought asserted itself in her mind she disappeared as quickly as she had appeared feeling much more relaxed now that she was out of his presence. 

Dean closed the door then turned glaring at Sam as he demanded, “What the hell was she doing here, Sam? I thought you were done with all that. Damn it, Sam, you told me, you promised me you were done with all that!” 

“And I am Dean, I am…” 

“Then why was _she_ here?” 

“To deliver a message…” 

“Ah to deliver a message… What kind of message, Sam?” 

Instead of answering the question directly Sam chose to simply state, “We need to leave Downingtown, Dean.” 

“What?” 

“She said that we needed to leave Downingtown.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it isn’t safe…” 

Tensing he repeated, “It isn’t safe?” brushing off the warning as he continued, “And we’re just going to take her word for it?” 

“Yes Dean. Look she’s just trying to _help_.” 

“And just how is she trying to help?” 

“She brought me a message.” 

“A message…? Jeez Sam…” 

“She said it wasn’t safe…” 

“For…?” 

Sam’s gaze lowered briefly to the floor before returning to his face once again as he replied, “For you, Dean, she said it isn’t safe for _you_.” 

He watched Dean’s expression expecting surprise or shock even, anything but the sudden lowering of his own head which indicated that he knew more than he had been saying. Anger filtered in as he found himself snapping, “You _knew_? You already knew and you didn’t tell me?” 

Dean kept his gaze trained on the floor for several more moments shifting nervously from one foot to the other and back again before focusing on Sam the answer to his question already reflecting in his eyes. Sam didn’t know what to say, or how to even react. He was angry with his brother, hurt by the fact that Dean hadn’t confided in him…again but the fear and worry that was bubbling so close to the surface drove away any desire to snap or yell at him further so he settled for a simple, “Why didn’t you tell me, Dean?” instead. 

Dean’s answer was immediate as he softly, quietly said, “Because Sam we have a job to do here. People are dying and we can’t just leave.” 

“Why not?” 

“You know why, Sam. It’s our job to help these people.” 

“Not if it gets you killed, Dean…” 

Dean’s expression grew darker more intense as he added, “Who said anything about getting me killed, Sam?” 

“Dean, come on!” 

“We have a job to do, Sam, and I intend to finish it.” 

“Even if in doing so it ends your life?” 

“Yes.” 

“No Dean, no, Ruby said they’re out there. She said they’re waiting for you. There’s no way of knowing just how many we’re up against here, and they’re all after you.” 

“Well then let them come!” 

Aggravated Sam bit out, “Oh, we’re back to that again?” 

“Back to what, Sam, back to what…?” 

“You, recklessly toying with your life as if you have a death wish or something…” 

“I don’t have a death wish, Sam. I’ve been there; done that, have the t-shirt…” 

“This _isn’t_ a joke, Dean. Angels may have helped you once but who’s to say they will again? You need to stop being so careless, so…” 

“Careless, Sam…?” 

“Dean, please. Let’s just go, let’s just leave Downingtown behind us. Please, Dean.” 

“What so more people die? No, Sam, no, we can’t. How many more people will die if we don’t do this, if we don’t take on this hunt? We have to try, Sam, we have to. Lives are depending on it.” 

“The risks are too great, Dean, we…” 

Abruptly cutting him off Dean informed, “Castiel told me to do what I needed to do here quickly and then get out…” 

“Castiel? So he _has_ been to visit you?” 

Ignoring the question Dean continued, “Sam we _need_ to stop this, whatever this is we need to stop it. Once we do that, once we accomplish that then we can leave.” 

“But what if they catch up to us before this is done? What do we do then, Dean?” 

Dean said nothing looking away before turning back to add in a tense voice, “We just have to hope they don’t, Sam.” 

“That’s a big risk, Dean…” 

“Yeah but what other choice do we have here, Sam? What other choice do we have? If we leave more people are going to die. We need to stop this thing now before it can hurt anyone else.” 

“And the demons…?” 

“We’ll just have to keep a closer eye on each other Sam, and try to finish this thing as quickly as we can.” 

He didn’t like it but knew that they had no other choice. They had to do this or more teenagers would lose their lives and that wasn’t an acceptable risk, so he nodded and simply said, “Okay, we finish this then we’re gone.” 

Dean nodded in agreement.

* * * *

_Later that day…_

The research Sam had done before their arrival at Downingtown had listed several names of those who had recently died at the Downingtown tunnels including a Jane Doe who had yet to be identified. Each death had been recorded as a mysterious accident except for Jane Doe’s. She had clearly been murdered. Not sure of where to begin their search for more information after scouring the Internet they decided to begin interviewing those who had lost someone at the tunnels. 

Arriving at the house of the first person on their list they knocked on the door and waited. When a stout middle age woman opened the door Dean smiled politely introducing, “Hello, Mrs. Anderson, we’re with the Sheriff’s Department. We came to ask you a few questions about…” 

“Sheriff’s Department but…?” 

“Are you the mother of Judith Anderson?” 

“Well yes but she…” 

Sam interceded, “We’re very sorry to bother you ma’me, but we needed to ask you a few questions about your daughter.” 

“Judith, why…?” 

“We’re in the middle of filing the paperwork on the case…” 

“Case…? What case? My daughter’s death was an accident.” 

“Yes ma’me, but we still need to file a report. We just need to tie up a few loose ends and then we’ll be on our way. Do you mind if we come in?” 

“Oh…okay sure. Come on in officers.” 

Nodding, they both thanked her before entering the house. Once inside Sam turned to her smiling gently as he said, “First, we would like to extend our condolences for your loss.” 

Mrs. Anderson quickly lowered her head swallowing hard before responding, “Thank…thank you, officers,” her previously strong voice breaking ever so slightly as sorrow filled her. Shaking her head she raised her chin and pinned the officers with a determined look as she questioned, “What do you need to know?” 

Sam kept his tone soothing as he inquired, “Ma’me, what can you tell me about Judith’s death?” 

Mrs. Anderson didn’t speak at first only approached the fireplace before drawing a picture down off of the mantel. Dean approached looking over her shoulder at the picture of a pretty brunette and asked quietly, “Is that her, Mrs. Anderson?” 

As she answered his question her hand absently stroked the picture frame her voice growing quiet, more hollow as she answered, “Yes. She was nineteen. She and a bunch of her friends decided to go to a party that night. They ended up at the tunnels.” 

Sam spoke next asking, “What can you tell me about the tunnels, Mrs. Anderson?” 

“Oh not much really, they’ve been there as long as I can remember, always had a nasty history that place... Violence, lots of violence occurred there. I warned her to stay away from those tunnels at night, but she didn’t listen. She was young and curious, fascinated by history and those tunnels…they have so much history to them.” 

Dean looked up from the picture focusing on Mrs. Anderson as he questioned, “What happened?” 

“To my Judith…? I don’t really know. They found her there the next morning said she’d fallen from the railroad tracks above the tunnels and…broke her neck.” 

“Do you believe that’s what happened, Mrs. Anderson?” 

Returning the picture to the mantel her voice raising an octave she responded, “Of course I do, my daughter was no strumpet.” 

Sam interrupted, “Excuse me?” 

Mrs. Anderson looked up at Sam as she began to explain, “My daughter was pregnant when she fell, she and the baby died instantly. The people of the town, they say it’s the curse…” 

“The curse…?” 

Nodding she continued, “She was an unwed mother you see…” 

“And…?” 

She studied the Winchester’s acutely as she explained, “There’s a story about those tunnels. Surely you’ve heard it being with the police force and all.” 

Sam cleared his throat before replying, “Um refresh my memory, which story might you be referring to?” 

She glanced at Dean then at Sam shaking her head as she continued, “They say a girl killed herself there, hung herself. She was driven from the town because of the child she had.” 

“Child, what…?” 

“Surely you’ve heard this story before…” 

Exchanging a brief glance with Dean he responded with, “Uh no, not, not this one…,” relieved when Mrs. Anderson simply nodded before speaking again as understanding crossed her facial features, “Ah…” 

Offering Dean a curious gaze Sam then returned his attention to the woman, “She got pregnant and gave birth to a little boy. She never married. The town is highly religious, fanatical if you ask me. They don’t take kindly to unwed mothers even to this day. Judith had to tolerate a lot of scrutiny and intolerance from them, but she was stronger than this girl.” 

“Stronger than what girl, Mrs. Anderson…?” 

“The one who killed herself in those tunnels, of course.” 

“Oh,” nodding Sam encouraged her to continue. 

“They say she couldn’t handle the pressure, the scorn so late one night she went to the top of those hills and hung herself. The child was with her and when she fell so did he.” 

Sam and Dean exchanged another look both thinking the same thing: perhaps the deaths weren’t accidental after all but the result of a vengeful spirit striking out against the townspeople for the injustices they had caused. But why then would it strike at Judith Anderson? Her circumstances were so similar to that of the girls’ so why would it target _her_? 

Dean spoke next, “You wouldn’t happen to know the name of the girl who…” 

Mrs. Anderson offered him an incredulous look that had Dean stumbling over his own words and smiling awkwardly as he continued, “Um sorry. I was just curious. I’m kind of a history buff myself and…” 

Sam loudly cleared his throat tossing Dean an exasperated look before abruptly interceding with, “Well, I believe that’s all we’ll need for right now, Mrs. Anderson. Thank you so much for your time. We’ll be in touch.” 

“Oh…okay. Thank…thank you.” 

They both smiled before exiting the house. As soon as they were some distance away Sam asked, “Dean, what the hell was that?” 

“What? We need to know the identity of that girl in order to rid that tunnel of her spirit. I just thought she might possibly know it.” 

“Dean, we were there to ask about _her_ daughter not the girl who killed herself in those tunnels all those years ago.” 

Dean shrugged as he continued, “It was worth a shot. We need to wrap this up quickly Sam and in order to do that we need to find out her identity.” 

“By asking a grieving mother about it…? Dean, we don’t even know if this girl’s spirit is the one doing the haunting.” 

“Unwed mother, scorned by the town, Judith Anderson’s case strikingly similar…I’d say there’s a good chance.” 

Nodding in agreement Sam left the argument drop, “So vengeful spirit…” 

“Yeah…” 

“Dean, we need to…” 

As Sam’s voice trailed off Dean cast a worried look his way opening his mouth to ask what was wrong when Sam said, “We need to get off the street, Dean.” 

“What?” 

Glancing around anxiously Sam felt unsettled and harshly snapped, “NOW!” cringing at the tone of his own voice, but it was enough to send Dean into motion. Approaching and unlocking the Impala he quickly lowered inside turning to Sam as he slid into the passenger seat demanding, “Sam, what’s going on with you?” 

Continuing to scan the immediate area, Sam distractedly answered, “No time to explain. Let’s just go.” 

Starting the car and shifting it into gear Dean muttered, “Okay, okay…” shaking his head as he pulled away from the curb. 

Once on the road again Sam’s discomfort seemed to ease prompting Dean to ask again, “Sam, are you going to tell me what’s going on or…?” 

“It’s just a feeling.” 

“A feeling…? What feeling, Sam?” 

Gazing out the window he said, “Like we’re being watched…” 

“Watched? By who…?” 

“I don’t know, Dean. I just know what I sensed.” 

“What _did_ you sense?” 

“We were being watched, or rather _you_ were. I’m sure of it.” 

“Watched? You think I’m being watched?” 

“Yes.” 

“But…why?” 

Sam turned irritated now unaware that his feelings reflected in his voice as he answered, “I don’t know, Dean, maybe it has something to do with the fact that there are demons presently searching for you.” 

Nodding he replied, “Okay so we’ll just lay low for a bit and…” 

“Lay low? Dean, an army of demons are hunting you and you want to _lay low_?” 

Swallowing dryly he managed, “You got a better idea?” 

“Yeah, I say we leave Downingtown… _now_.” 

Cocking his head slightly to the right Dean answered, “We’ve already been over this, Sam. We can’t just leave, not yet.” 

Aggravated Sam grumbled, “What, so we’re just going to sit here and let them come?” 

“We’ve got work to do.” 

He shook his head disappointed as he replied, “You’re playing with fire, Dean.” 

Dean lifted his gaze to the rear view mirror a sudden far away look entering his eyes as he simply answered, “Yeah,” remembering all too clearly what it felt like to be burned…literally.


	4. Chapter 4

**PART 4**

Settling in their hotel room for the evening Sam drew out his laptop and set it up. They needed to do a bit more research and find exact directions to the Downingtown tunnels, as well as try to figure out the identity of the spirit haunting them. They had one lead and that was a girl who had been driven from the town and hung herself, if the spirit was her then that would explain why the victims’ had broken necks. If it wasn’t her, then they had more interviewing and research to do which they weren’t done with anyway. Sam hoped she was the one but usually their hunts didn’t wrap up so quickly. He highly doubted this one would be any different. 

He began with a search of the town archives, looking under history as well as various other topics hunting for anything that could help them with the identity of the woman who had killed herself at the tunnels. After spending several hours doing research they had still found nothing, no articles, no references to the apparent suicide, and no clue as to her true identity. However they did continue to stumble across freak accidental deaths that had occurred in the area throughout the last several years. Sam continued to read before saying, “Hey, Dean, look at this.” 

Dean approached leaning over his brother’s shoulder to get a closer look at the computer screen reading what Sam was indicating with his pointer finger before questioning, “How many deaths have you found so far?” 

“It’s hard to say, Dean…a lot. I think this may be a condensed version…” 

Dean glanced at his brother briefly before continuing to read down the list glancing at causes of death before commenting, “The town didn’t notice?” 

“Probably but would you want to question why so many people mysteriously wound up dead in your neck of the woods…? This is supposed to be an area with a low crime rate, little violence…” 

“And lots of death…” 

“They probably choose to ignore it.” 

“Ignore it? How could anyone possibly ignore a death toll that high? Most of these deaths are unexplained.” 

Sam shrugged before continuing, “Well Mrs. Anderson did say this town was very religious. I believe the word she used to describe it was ‘fanatical’.” 

“Yeah, so…?” 

“So? You have this very religious town that apparently contains not only a portal to the underworld but also an area of such evil that even the locals warn their children to steer clear of. Wouldn’t you want to deny the reality of all those strange deaths too? Wouldn’t you want to turn a blind eye to it?” 

Dean nodded as he said, “Because to admit they’re happening…” 

“Would undermine everything you had been taught, everything you believed,” Sam fell silent briefly before adding, “The death count alone suggests that something unnatural is going on here. No place has that high a record. All these deaths have occurred in and around the area of the tunnels. Something’s definitely going on here.” 

“Don’t you think someone else would have noticed? I mean…” 

“Downingtown is a small close knit community, Dean. It’s what we’d consider a backwater town…” 

“Sam the turnpike’s that way,” Dean indicated the direction by quickly pointing his finger towards it before finishing, “It stretches through the entire state…” 

“Yeah but most of the area is shrouded in trees, trees that block out everything except the occasional field and barn. The only thing you can really see along there are rest stops and random businesses.” 

“There are signs, Sam…” 

“Yeah but I highly doubt that Downingtown is a hot bed of activity. Most of the people on that road are probably traveling to Philadelphia or Pittsburg. They’re not going to stop at a small insignificant town along the way…” 

“Small insignificant town…? The death toll here makes New York City almost pale in comparison, Sam.” 

“Now you’re exaggerating.” 

“Okay maybe a little but it’s still a significant number that should have been triggered by the Census Bureau or something.” 

“Yeah, but…” 

Dean shook his head dropping the argument altogether as he firmly stated, “We need to get to those tunnels, Sam. Do we have better directions yet?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Good then we’ll head there tomorrow. Do some more investigating of our own, figure out what’s going on and get out of here.” 

Sam nodded worry lines still creasing his forehead that prompted Dean to ask, “What are you thinking about, Sam?” 

He glanced briefly at his brother before confessing, “The death count at those tunnels is fairly high, Dean.” 

“Yeah so…?” 

“What if it isn’t her?” 

“Isn’t her as in…?” 

Sam was apprehensive but still responded, “Not all those who died there lost their lives from falls Dean… What if she isn’t the spirit who’s haunting the place?” 

“She’s all we got. She’s the most likely candidate, so I say we start there. It’s at least something.” 

“Dean…” 

“Look we have another interview tomorrow, maybe…” referencing the names he had listed he continued, “Mister McCallister can, I don’t know, shed some more light on this.” 

Sam nodded then said, “We’ll need to find a library too, take a look at some death records, police reports…see what else we can dig up.” 

Rolling his eyes Dean replied, “You mean we gotta do more research.” 

“Yeah.” 

Shaking his head he protested, “Why can’t these things ever be easy?” 

“Dean, we need to figure this thing out and quickly. We’re in a bit of a time crunch here.” 

Moving away from the computer, he gathered his jacket in his hands checking his wallet for money before saying, “Yeah… I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. You want anything?” 

Sam eyed him up, gnawing at the inside of his cheek, caught in a quandary. He wanted to let Dean get something to eat, but was the risk too great for him to be alone? Shaking his head he simply said, “You shouldn’t go alone, Dean.” 

Irritation flashed in his brother’s eyes as he pointed haphazardly towards the window, raising an eyebrow as he informed, “Dude, the restaurant’s right across the street...” 

Pinning Dean with an even gaze Sam gently reminded, “And they’re still out there…” 

Dean sighed in frustration rolling his eyes as he responded, “Well, _I’m_ hungry.” 

“You’re always hungry, Dean,” as Dean’s vision seemed to cloud over Sam swallowed hard aware that he had just struck a nerve he hadn’t intended on striking so clearing his throat he covered with, “Look you stay here and see what else you can dig up. I’ll get the food.” 

Frustration returned as Dean muttered, “Ah Sammy…,” causing Sam to relax slightly, aware that the momentary sore spot he had unintentionally poked at had been temporarily forgotten. 

He added, “They’re after you, not me. You’ll be safer here.” 

“It’s just as easy to find me here as there, Sam.” 

Sam was up already grabbing his coat as he responded, “Yeah, well it’ll make me feel better.” 

Dean held his brother’s worried gaze aware that he had already lost the battle before it even started, especially when Sam said it would make him feel better, so sighing and mumbling about overprotective younger brothers he tossed his own jacket on the nearest bed and lowered in front of Sam’s laptop. 

Sam nodded feeling relieved his hand already on the door knob turning it when Dean said, “Be careful, Sam. They may want me, but they also know they can use you to get to me.” 

Shifting his gaze briefly to the wall he nodded before exiting knowing just how right Dean’s words were. He wanted to protect Dean and to do that required that he keep himself out of their way too. He had to be just as cautious as Dean if not more so to ensure the demons didn’t gain an advantage over his brother. Still he was glad that Dean was staying behind, out of sight for the time being. 

Once the door closed Dean waited for several moments before rising from the desk and approaching the window carefully drawing back the curtain keeping out of sight as much as possible. He watched his brother make his way across the parking lot only relaxing when Sam had successfully crossed the street and entered the restaurant. He may have told Sam he’d stay put but that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep an eye on him. After all he already knew just how much of a weakness Sam could be, for if something happened to his younger brother he’d not rest until he got him back. They were each strong, but together they were stronger and shared the same weakness any demon would love to exploit and that was each other. 

Closing the curtain he returned to Sam’s laptop and continued his brother’s search where he’d left off feeling suddenly as if they might never be able to finish this particular hunt. Sam was right so many had died at those tunnels each with the potential to be the sole spirit haunting them. There were too many to choose from. The list had to be narrowed, so he decided to focus strictly on the suicides and murders that had occurred there. Violent deaths created vengeful spirits, accidental deaths not so much. 

As he continued the search he frowned finding no mention of a female suicide victim who had hung herself, and subconsciously shuddering as he read about the woman in the suitcase, a grisly murder case that still remained officially unsolved. She had quite the potential to be a vengeful spirit roaming through the years, a restless spirit whose identity had never been found, if she were their ghost he feared there might be no way to stop her. 

Softly cursing he ran a hand quickly down over his face leaning back in the chair he was sitting in before stretching and glancing at his watch. Sam had only been gone a few minutes. He had seen him enter the restaurant. He was fine, yet Dean still worried knowing what could happen, again wondering why the demons hadn’t yet made a move. They knew he and his brother were there, yet they were waiting, but what were they waiting for? Other than Sam’s sense that they were being watched earlier in the day they had seen and heard nothing. Sure they had been given warnings from both Castiel and Ruby, but nothing had happened yet. What were they waiting for? 

Shrugging he blamed it on the fact that they had only just arrived in Downingtown and left it at that knowing he should be thankful they hadn’t made any kind of move yet. It was buying Sam and him time to solve this thing and move on, but if it couldn’t be solved… 

Shaking his head he refused to accept defeat knowing they would solve this thing and move on. He only hoped they could solve it quickly because time was running out and when it did the demons would make their move attempting to take him back to… 

He shuddered squeezing his eyes shut gasping as he could hear his own screams echoing in his mind, feel the sudden strain exerted on already overtaxed muscles as each of his limbs were stretched apart, cables cutting into him holding him suspended over a fiery pit, the heat already scorching his skin as he cried out for Sam, for anybody, only to find that he was completely and utterly alone… 

Jolting out of the chair he cursed before making his way rapidly to the bathroom quickly finding himself dry heaving over the toilet shaking violently before relaxing, calming enough to approach the sink and splash cold water on his face. As he looked up into the mirror there he noticed how blanched his face was, could see the dark circles under each of his eyes and how tight his skin was drawn across his face, all subtle indicators that he was anything but okay. He was having difficulty sleeping, difficulty focusing and difficulty eating as well. Sam had no doubt noticed the lack of sleep but hadn’t noticed how much weight he’d lost. He wore baggier clothes to conceal that from him. He was underweight, not severely so, but more than he should be. Shaking his head he stepped away from the mirror determined not to look in it again. Since his return he had avoided mirrors as much as he was able not wanting to see the evidence across his body and face that attested to the fact that he wasn’t sleeping or eating well at all. 

Shaking his head, attempting to clear his mind of the still nagging whispers in the back of it, he approached the table lowering before the laptop one more time. Glancing again at the screen his eyes scanned the picture of the Jane Doe he had been reading about before his nightmares had returned. He struggled hard to silence the subtle whispers still teasing his brain and the brief flashes of memory still remaining. Forcing his eyes closed again he silently willed the memories and voices to quiet and stop. As the last remnants of both began to fade he began to relax scanning the web page repeatedly as he waited it out. As he glanced at the page for about the tenth time scanning it yet again he realized he hadn’t comprehended any of it, so he forced his attention back on the task at hand reading about the vicious murder of Jane Doe. 

As he settled further he found himself jumping when the hotel door opened. Glancing up he felt embarrassed that he hadn’t even heard Sam at the door before it opened. He was slipping. 

Sam smiled as he saw his brother still busy on his computer relieved to see that Dean was still there and still safe. Turning he closed the door locking it before saying, “Dinner’s ready.” 

Dean glanced up briefly, but didn’t make any attempt to get some food. Sam noticed immediately again worrying about his brother. He approached the table sitting the food in front of Dean hoping the smell would coax him to eat. Instead Dean continued to look at the computer screen. Opting to avoid an argument Sam casually asked, “So find anything?” while he drew the containers of food out. Dean didn’t look up as he said, “Reading about a murder case.” 

“Ah the Jane Doe…” 

As he spoke he casually opened one of the containers of food and slowly slid it beside Dean hoping that he’d just subconsciously reach for the food and smiling when Dean’s fingers seized a french fry. He quietly urged his brother to eat hoping he’d do so without thinking too much about it. As Dean lifted the fry to his lips Sam silently urged him to eat it already tensing when Dean paused to say, “Yeah. The murder was never solved, Sammy.” 

_I know that already, Dean, eat the damned food!_

“Yeah it was a pretty gruesome murder…” 

He trailed off cheering victoriously in his mind as Dean finally ate the fry before reaching for a second one. 

_Yes, that’s it Dean, eat. Come on. Eat for me._

Relief filled him as Dean ate the second fry then grabbed for another. Keep him distracted, he had to keep Dean distracted or he wouldn’t eat. He had noticed almost immediately how Dean avoided eating since his return. He ate very little and no doubt believed his brother was completely clueless about it. When he did eat Sam would wake to hear him retching in the bathroom unsure as to whether he was deliberately making himself sick or if something else was triggering it. After that he tried to make Dean eat, but more often than not his brother wouldn’t. He’d eat a few bites before letting the rest sit. He used distraction to get Dean to eat now. If he could slip the food beside him or within reaching distance and get his brother distracted Dean would usually begin to eat without thinking about it, but the moment he was no longer distracted he’d leave it sit and not touch it anymore. It was frustrating and sad to see. On occasion Dean would get hungry enough to go out and actually eat but that didn’t happen much…at least not anymore. His eating habits were yet another thing that had changed drastically since his return. He didn’t like it and had no idea what to do about it. 

As Dean stopped Sam realized he had gotten distracted and quickly said, “Her murder is one of several unsolved cases in the area. There were others but only hers was near those tunnels.” 

His face growing pensive Dean added, “It says here her legs were ripped…” 

“From her pelvis, yeah saw that too…” 

Swallowing dryly he stated, “People are crazy, Sam.” 

As Dean ate another French fry Sam relaxed aware that Dean hadn’t yet realized his brother’s attempt to get him to eat. Nodding in satisfaction he opened his own container and began to eat pausing as he said, “That murder happened in July 1995. They have a base description of her but no idea of who she was. There was a similar murder that occurred at the same time in Las Vegas I believe. Both murders were never solved.” 

Smiling spastically Dean glanced up for the first time from the monitor to look at Sam his voice straining as he managed, “Well if I were hacked into pieces and stuffed into a suitcase I think I’d want to come back to haunt the place too.” 

Sam flinched upon hearing the word “hacked” remembering all too clearly watching his brother being torn to shreds before him so many months ago. He placed his sandwich back in the container suddenly having lost his appetite. It took sheer willpower to pick the sandwich up again before saying, “Yeah. She was found along the Brandywine the suitcase wrapped in a green trash bag, dropped along the side of the road…” 

Dean ate another french fry and Sam found his appetite again, fearing if he stopped eating Dean would notice and become so concerned that he’d stop eating too. He didn’t want Dean to stop. Dean needed to eat and to eat more than a few french fries. 

Dean shook his head saying, “It doesn’t fit.” 

“What?” 

“If her spirit’s the one doing the haunting it doesn’t fit.” 

“So we’re back to the girl again…” 

“I did a cross check on suicides at the tunnels, Sam…” 

“And…?” 

“And there’s no mention of a girl who killed herself by hanging.” 

“Well they drove her out of town right?” 

“Yeah…” 

“So maybe… Chester County, do a search on the county for murders and suicides to see if anything else comes up, maybe that tunnel serves as a county line or something.” 

“Yeah maybe…” as Dean’s voice trailed off Sam watched him eat another French fry beginning to relax further as he ate. The light from the computer screen painted an eerie blue hue across his brother’s facial features, creating shadow and light where none had been before. As he continued to watch Dean he felt his throat closing spastically upon noticing the deep dark circles under his brother’s eyes, the tautness of pale skin over bone, the exhaustion and weariness that seemed to now be such an integral part of his brother. Dean wasn’t looking well at all. In fact he looked ill instead of healthy and strong as he should. He tensed feeling his heart growing heavy in his chest as he noticed how much Dean had lost while away. Four months, four months was a long time to some people and to one who had suffered and been repeatedly tortured only God knows how four months had to be damned near a lifetime. 

“Sammy? Sam, what’s wrong?” 

Hearing the tension now lining his brother’s voice Sam immediately looked up apologizing for becoming distracted. Dean was gazing at him in worry as he asked again, “What’s going on with you, Sam?” 

“I could ask you the same thing, Dean.” 

“Wha…what do you mean?” 

Noticing Dean unconsciously push the container of food away he cursed himself for being so stupid. Damn it, Dean had stopped eating again! He was killing himself here! Damn it, he could kick himself for his stupidity! He searched frantically in his mind for a way to distract Dean again before responding, “It’s this case Dean, the murder of that girl. I mean she was…hacked to pieces and stuffed into a suitcase, left by the side of the road to rot. How horrible is that?” 

Dean swallowed hard relaxing only a hair as he tried to ignore the sudden sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. He looked at Sam not sure what to say, so he returned his focus to the computer screen unaware of the subtle shifting of his food container towards him as Sam carefully moved it back into place. 

Sam watched his brother eating his own food as he studied Dean’s pale drawn face. He was quiet again, withdrawn. Something was bothering him, but Sam hadn’t quite figured out what. He decided to give Dean some time hoping that perhaps he would say something, but when he didn’t Sam settled for quietly watching him again silently urging him to eat. 

After several moments that seemed more like hours Dean’s hand dipped into the food container again hovering there for several heartbreaking long moments before grasping hold of another french fry. As Dean drew his hand to his mouth and ate it Sam nearly cheered aloud at the accomplishment. Dean was eating, albeit he was eating only a little but maybe, just maybe he’d reach for the sandwich nestled in next to the french fries. As Dean continued to study the computer he soon drew the sandwich to his mouth and for a moment Sam had thought he never saw anything more beautiful. Finally Dean was eating _something_ , finally. 

It wasn’t long before Dean stopped placing the half eaten sandwich in the container as he placed a hand over his stomach. Shit, stomach ache no doubt from lack of food entering it. Shit! He prayed Dean wouldn’t throw up the little bit of food he had managed to take in nearly biting his lip clean through as he waited for the inevitable mad dash for the bathroom. When it didn’t come he settled further in his seat frowning when the hand that had been on his stomach now rubbed overly tired eyes. 

Dean was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep, couldn’t sleep. If he dared the dreams, the nightmares would come back. The only thing he could do was sit here and study the computer screen hoping that once Sam finished eating he’d head off to bed. Once Sam was asleep it was always easier to stay up and fight against rest. He had to bide his time, wait just a little while longer and then Sam would relax and drift off. Once Sam drifted off then he could focus on staying awake. He stared hard at the computer screen noticing that the screen seemed to be fading before him as if someone had just turned off the monitor. What the…? Forcing his eyes open he nearly jumped as he became aware that he had almost fallen asleep. No, he couldn’t fall asleep for if he did the nightmares would return again and he couldn’t handle them, not tonight. Shaking his head he carefully stood only vaguely aware of the rather loud bang that resounded behind him, confused he turned to see what the source of the noise was finding he was wavering on his feet. He instantly reached out for the table hoping it would stop his decent towards the floor relieved when it did. When he opened his eyes to focus again he became aware that the loud bang had been caused by the chair falling backwards. Staring at it dumbfounded he nearly jumped out of his skin when a warm tender hand lowered to his shoulder. As he became aware of just where that hand was resting he jerked back releasing a harsh desperate cry of ‘no’ as the images he had fought so long and hard to forget earlier suddenly began an instant replay through his mind. NO! 

Swallowing hard Sam became instantly afraid when Dean stood up only to nearly topple to the floor. His exhaustion and forced starvation coming to a head weakening him to the point that he nearly crumpled. He felt only minor relief when Dean planted his hand firmly on the table thus steadying his uneasy swaying. Without thought he rose to his feet and ran to his brother’s side not thinking as he placed his hand on the scarred arm until Dean released a desperate no and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Damn it! He had placed his hand on that scar, the one that had been left behind by either Castiel or one of the demons who had tormented his brother when he was imprisoned. What the hell had he been thinking? Instantly he was speaking Dean’s name, repeating it over and over like a lament praying, pleading with his brother hoping he could break free from the flashback that had just seized him. As Dean lifted his hand from the table he instantly began to crumple but Sam had a firm grip on him, firm enough to prevent him striking the floor. He was a bit fearful as Dean’s full weight came down upon him and his brother was more manageable than he should be…the weight loss no doubt having stripped some much needed pounds from his body. 

Once settled on the floor he held Dean against him not sure of what to say or do as his brother continued to softly repeat the word ‘no’ over and over again. At a loss for what to say he simply began to stroke Dean’s hair whispering words of encouragement to him hoping that in some way he would be able to break through to his brother. He could feel the shivers that wracked Dean’s too thin frame as he held him in his arms and prayed, not for the first time, for any kind of help to ease his brother’s suffering. As if in answer to his prayer his brother’s mutterings began to fall blessedly silent, the shivers began to subside and his brother’s body began to relax against him as he finally settled in his arms. Sam had no idea what had created the change but was grateful only relaxing further when he recognized the deep even breathing coming from his brother that indicated he was now asleep. Finally Dean was getting some much needed rest, but how long would sleep continue to loll him before the nightmares began again? 

Sam sat on the floor holding his now peacefully slumbering brother in his arms. He wanted to move him, to get him into a bed but was almost too afraid to do so. It would require he wake Dean, and he feared once awaken Dean would again resist the allure of sleep. He couldn’t keep that up much longer and with demons closing in on them, their ultimate goal being to capture and destroy his brother, Dean would need all the strength he could muster because if things went bad… 

Shaking his head he tried not to think about it settling on just being able to hold his brother close. He quickly lost track of the time tensing when his brother softly groaned, an indicator that he was returning to wakefulness. He tensed waiting on edge listening to Dean’s breathing and unable to hold back a soft smile as Dean’s voice filled the room with a quiet, “Okay, awkward...,” as he became aware of his precarious predicament. 

Slowly sitting up he drew away from his brother questions reflecting in his eyes that had Sam automatically answering, “You collapsed, Dean.” 

Puzzled eyes focused intently on his face as his brother was trying to remember the events that led to this particular moment answering with a simple question, “What time is it?” 

“You’ve been asleep about two hours…” 

Surprise entered next as he voiced, “Dude, you’ve been holding me in your arms for _two hours_?” 

“I didn’t want to wake you. You haven’t been sleeping well.” 

He was expecting an immediate denial so common from his older brother who hated to allow weakness to show, ANY weakness. What he got instead was a heavy sigh and a hand rubbing at tired eyes as Dean replied with, “So you’ve noticed…” 

“Yeah kind of hard not to, especially when we’re always together… Do you want to tell me about it?” 

“No but I would like to get off this floor.” 

“No complaints here.” 

Sam slowly stood stretching, his body cracking in several places as he did so. He halted when Dean’s voice floated to him from below as he said, “Little help here Sam…” 

Immediately he was lowering again to help Dean stand. Once on his feet he became aware of the small tremors that still seemed to be wracking his brother’s thin frame. He quickly guided him to a bed surprised when Dean muttered, “Gotta stop doing this…” 

“Doing what?” 

Anguished eyes centered on him as Dean responded, “All this avoidance crap…” 

“Avoidance crap, Dean…?” 

Settling an intense gaze on Sam filled with certainty Dean quieted his voice saying, “Come on, Sam. I know you’ve noticed.” 

Acting innocent, astonished that his brother was bringing it up at all he questioned, “Noticed what, Dean…?” 

Again that unnerving _knowing_ look settled on him as Dean responded with, “That I haven’t been sleeping…” 

“Never noticed…” 

“You’re such a liar, Sam.” 

Lowering his gaze before lifting it again he confessed, “Well oh…okay maybe I noticed a little.” 

“Truth is, Sam, it scares me, you know.” 

“What?” 

Silence fell between them the question only hovering before Dean admitted, “Remembering, Sam, the remembering, it scares me…a lot. When I close my eyes… It’s like I’m back there again, you know, and I can’t break free. I can’t _forget_. Why can’t I forget that, Sam?” 

Licking his lips nervously he answered, “Maybe you’re not supposed to, Dean, maybe remembering that, your time there, maybe it… I don’t know makes you stronger, gives you more reason to fight? I don’t know, maybe to fight this war you _need_ to remember.” 

Dean released a harsh chuckle as he simply stated, “Some warrior I am. I can’t even sleep. I’m exhausted, Sam. I can’t close my eyes I just…can’t so I find things to distract me, keep me busy, you know. How can I be expected to do all these things when I can’t even sleep? I’m run down, Sam, tired…” 

“Don’t, don’t talk like that, please Dean, just don’t.” 

“No, I’m not tired like before Sam, this is more of a mental thing. I need sleep or I’ll be useless in any kind of fight. I know this and yet…” 

“You still can’t sleep.” 

“Something like that…yeah.” 

“You slept for two hours tonight Dean, that at least is something.” 

“It’s not enough, Sam, it’s not enough.” 

Sam watched his brother noticing that Dean was beginning to waiver again. Swallowing hard he softly encouraged, “Here why don’t you lay down, Dean.” 

Haunted eyes found him as Dean opened his mouth to speak then closed it again before nodding wearily. Sam watched him lean forward attempting to remove his shoes noticing that Dean was struggling a bit so he quickly jumped in saying, “Here let me do that for you.” 

As Sam lowered before Dean beginning to remove his shoes he felt his brother’s still slightly trembling hand settle on his shoulder certain that Dean was now watching his every move, and probably so afraid of falling forward that he needed to lean on him for support. As he drew both shoes off his brother’s feet he glanced up seeing a look of gratefulness in Dean’s eyes. Smiling affectionately he stood and again gently urged, “Here, Dean, lay down for me.” 

“You’re not supposed to be taking care of me, Sammy. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.” 

“And you are, you will, but right now you need this so relax and climb under the covers will ya.” 

“Nag…” 

Sam’s smile broadened as he answered, “Jerk…” 

Dean smiled briefly before crawling under the covers like directed then settled in the bed. Once he was situated Sam drew the covers up over him and tucked them around him as he suggested, “Why don’t you try to rest, Dean. Please?” 

The haunted look returned prompting Sam to gentle his voice further as he assured, “I’ll be here to wake you if…” 

Dean nodded his eyes glassy as he blinked wearily and continued to peer at his younger brother. He wanted to resist the temptation to shut his eyes but soon found his eyelids drooping. He kept his gaze locked on Sam through it all smiling softly and settling further as Sam began to brush a hand tenderly through his hair. He knew Sam was now coaxing him to sleep despite his argument to remain awake and was aware that Sam’s tactics were working. He was settling further, drifting deeper into rest and within moments was fully asleep. 

Sam smiled gently as he continued to stroke his brother’s hair catching the definite difference in his breathing that told him Dean was now asleep. He felt relief filling him determined to be there the moment he saw Dean struggling against the dreams that were pure nightmares. 

Once he was certain Dean was resting peacefully he told him he’d be right back hearing a soft moan of protest at the loss of the tender stroking that Dean emitted in response. Quickly he grabbed the toppled chair and sat it beside Dean’s bed not wanting to wake him by sitting on the bed. Once the chair was in place he lowered into it and again began to run his fingers loosely through Dean’s hair noticing how he seemed to relax and settle further upon the re-application of the simple touch. As he watched his brother he drew comfort in his presence having missed him so very much when he had been away. He now found he needed to see Dean, needed to watch him to assure himself that his brother was still with him afraid that at any moment he might be taken away again. He didn’t think he could survive Dean’s absence another time, for he needed Dean as much as Dean needed him. They needed each other, all they had in the world was each other and he was determined to protect what they had at all costs. He wouldn’t lose Dean again. He couldn’t lose Dean again. 

As he continued to watch his brother he felt the faintest of breezes stirring his hair ever so slightly and closed his eyes tensing when a familiar voice questioned, “How is he?” 

Sam turned then gaping at the angel visiting before asking, “What do you want?” 

Castiel spoke his eyes never drifting from the now sleeping form of Dean as he questioned again, “How is he?” 

Sam answered, “Resting…finally.” 

“This is good, for he has many burdens, and there is much left to do.” 

“Yeah about that just _what_ does he have to do? What do you want from him?” 

“He will be the one who saves us.” 

Sam stared openly at the angel, wondering about him and why he seemed so interested in Dean. Castiel was an enigma appearing randomly to visit his brother, telling him things, expecting things from him and seemingly having great faith in him. Castiel had no doubts when it came to Dean accomplishing this great mission given him. He also seemed to care a bit more than one would expect an angel to care for regular mortals… 

“I am a guardian angel, Samuel. My duty is and has always been to watch over those on earth, to protect them and guide them on their paths.” 

“I didn’t say…” 

“You didn’t have to. You were thinking it and that is all I need.” 

“What?” 

“To listen, all I need to do is listen.” 

“You listen but you won’t help.” 

“I can only help so much, Samuel.” 

“But he can’t do this alone…” 

“He is not alone, for he has _you_.” 

“Me? But…” 

“You have always been strong, Samuel, both of you. Together you are even stronger. He needs you as you need him. Right now he needs you more than ever before.” 

“But…” 

“You know what I speak of is the truth, Samuel.” 

Nodding he turned back to gaze at his brother who seemed to have settled and relaxed much more upon the arrival of Castiel. Cocking his head to the side in surprise at that observance he turned back to Castiel saying, “What…,” and trailing off as he became aware that the angel was gone. As quickly as he had arrived he had vanished, which was a bit unnerving. How did Dean ever get used to _that_? Shaking his head in wonder he turned back to focus on his brother smiling affectionately as he continued to watch him sleep before he was following in suit.


End file.
